


The Language of CIs

by ladygray99



Category: White Collar
Genre: Multi, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-24
Updated: 2011-06-24
Packaged: 2017-10-20 16:53:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/214947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladygray99/pseuds/ladygray99
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Elizabeth often wondered if other FBI wives got flowers from their husband's CIs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Language of CIs

**Author's Note:**

> Written for elrhiarhodan ’s Prompt Fest V. Okay, for some reason this went really mushy at the end. Don't know why.
> 
> Prompt: Elizabeth – Flowers

Elizabeth often wondered if other FBI wives got flowers from their husband's CIs. She was willing to guess the answer was probably not. Neal seemed unique in that matter.

This time they were flowers of apology. She and Peter had planed a nice evening in when Neal cracked a clue that sent Peter rushing to get warrants and make arrests. Neal wrote in a little note that he would try to time his moments of brilliance better in the future.

In her heart she knew Neal couldn't be that sorry and it was probably an important case. After three years of having Neal Caffrey in her life she'd learned to read his own language of flowers.

A nice mixed bunch like the kind she just got was for a little Oops. It usually involved Peter missing a meal. A bunch of carefully matched orchids was for something bigger like Peter missing an event or an important date. The card on those always said from Peter but she knew they came from Neal. Two dozen white roses were always for her birthday and usually delivered to her office by a stupidly handsome and nearly underage delivery boy. Two dozen yellow roses always showed up for her and Peter's anniversary. And the night after she and Peter first took Neal to their bed Elizabeth found, on her pillow, the most perfect rose of the deepest red, made from paper. The accompanying note said that it was a rose like his love, something that would never wilt or fade.


End file.
